But Dude, Why A Golf Club?
by Shpadoinkle Day
Summary: Ever wonder why Kyle chose a golf club as his weapon of choice as King of the Elves? Pre-Stick of Truth.


**Hi everyone! I'm back with a new one-shot! This one is Stick Of Truth based and tells of how Kyle chose a golf club as his main weapon. (Warning: contains some gore)**

 **Also, it's finally September…HAPPY SOUTH PARK SEASON!** **Can't wait to see what this new season will bring! 5 more days to go!**

 **South Park belongs to Trey Parker & Matt Stone.**

Kyle Broflovski gazed up at the looming clouds that blanketed the night sky. Snowflakes dotted his lashes, blurring his vision slightly. The cold winter wind seemed to echo his mood, howling around him and stinging at his face. He had just gotten back from their first team dinner at Whistlin' Willy's, where they had discussed costume ideas and – most importantly – weapons.

For Kyle, the costume part was a piece of cake. He had hired the finest tailor in South Park – a flamboyant fourth grader named Filippo, whose mother ran the local fabric shop on Bonanza Street – to design his Elf King robe. Upon seeing Kyle's paladin garb, Filippo tsked at the color scheme and ordered him to dispose of it immediately. "It hurts the eyes, doll," he had told Kyle as two other tailors took the redhead's measurements. "If you're going to be a king, you'll want to look more regal. Something flowy! Rich! Striking!" He flailed his arms theatrically as he said this, his coiffed black hair coming undone. "A red robe will suit your features best, My Lord. Just leave it to me, and you'll be the envy of all the forest!"

Problem solved.

The weapons on the other hand were another story. Kyle had been so preoccupied with the battle tactics and mapping out Cartman's kingdom, that he hadn't even bothered to consider what weapons would best fit him. _It's almost like everyone else was lucky enough to be granted with them from the start_ ,he thought. _Stan has his sword and his trusty "wolf companion", Cartman has a lighter and the V-Chip in his brain, and Kenny was given magical girl powers from the Sony Executives. And each class of Elf has their assigned weapon. So what about me?_

Kyle had already tested out a leaf blower during their first battle practice that afternoon. Sounds very naturey, doesn't it? Blinding his foes with dirt and leaves was a good advantage, but when tested out only seemed to do actual damage against shielded enemies. He needed to be more flexible than that. If he chose that as his main weapon, the other guys would make fun of him and call it a pussy weapon. When he brought up his troubles to his Super Best Friend, Stan jumped into action and literally dragged Kyle to his Uncle Jimbo's shop to check out some rare weapons that Jimbo stored in the back of the shop. An assortment of high-level and intricately detailed battle axes and crossbows adorned the shelves. Stan had even suggested the nun chucks Kyle bought from the county fair all that time ago. Though all were tempting, they seemed too cliché. Kyle wanted something original, something that defined what he stood for.

He had until the coronation on Friday to ultimately choose. It was only Sunday after all, but he knew damn well that his conscience wouldn't let him rest until the problem was solved. With a sigh, he opened the front door to his house.

"I'm home!" Kyle called out into the darkened living room. _Why the hell are all the lights off?_ Kyle thought to himself as he slipped his key back into his jacket pocket. Even stranger was the fact that Ike's babysitter, Tiffany was nowhere to be found in the living room, not even on the couch watching the blaring TV like she always did. He had noticed his parents' Toyota wasn't in the driveway either. They had gone out for the night for their anniversary and wouldn't be home until late.

"And in other news tonight, a man has escaped from the Park County Jailhouse," Tom the anchorman announced on screen, immediately catching Kyle's attention. "Police identify him as Henry Jacobsen and claim he is armed and dangerous." A photo of the man appeared on the screen. He had a long bird-like face, with a receding hairline and big, crazed blue eyes. He also had a jagged scar on the left side on his face that ran from the bottom of his eye to the edge of his mouth. A chill ran down Kyle's spine. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Calm down, Kyle. You're just expecting the worst, that's all," he tried to assure himself. He opened his eyes and called out again into the darkness: "Hello? Anybody? It's me, Kyle!"

The response came in the form of a creak upstairs, making him flinch. "It's okay," he uttered to himself to calm his nerves. But his fear caused his voice to go up half an octave. "It's probably just Tiffany putting Ike to bed. And besides, t-t-things go bump in the night all the time! Heh…nothing out of the ordinary, right?" But something in the depths of his mind sensed something was wrong. Very wrong. There was no ignoring intuition when it nagged at you like an overbearing mother.

The twinkle ringtone of an iPhone from the kitchen startled Kyle. He tiptoed into the kitchen. The unmistakable smell of blood stung his nostrils and he gagged. _The fuck is going on here?_ he thought, stomach churning. Kyle flicked on the kitchen light and let out a strangled cry as he fell against the wall in horror at the sight before him.

Tiffany lay on the kitchen floor in a pool of her own blood...dead.

"Oh my god!" the scared boy shrieked. His wide eyes scanned her injuries. Her stomach had been sliced open, and her intestines had been pulled out and wrapped around her throat as if to ensure she was truly dead. _What kind of sick bastard would do this?!_ he thought. He turned away from the body and clutched his stomach, puking up remnants of cheese and pepperoni.

But an even grimmer thought crossed Kyle's mind: _What if they got to Ike too?!_ Kyle couldn't bear to think of the sight of his little brother reduced to a heap of bloody remains, limbs discarded across the floor like used toys. Ike meant the world to him. How in the world would he be able to cope with that kind of trauma?

The sound of rapid footfalls suddenly brought Kyle out of his reverie. _They're still in the house!_ With a trembling hand, Kyle dialed 9-1-1.

"9-1-1, what is your emergency?" the operator answered.

"Someone broke into our house!" the redhead whispered shrilly into the phone. "They killed our babysitter! Please! I…I need help! I live at 1002 Avenue De Los Mexicanos."

"Just hang tight, young man," said the operator. "The police will be on their way shortly."

Kyle hung up and immediately dialed his parents' cell phones. Of course neither one of them had bothered to pick up. _Shit! This is just fucking fantastic. I'm starring in my own goddamn horror movie._

A loud crash of glass made Kyle yelp in surprise and jump about a foot in the air. Still trembling, he slowly poked his head out of the kitchen doorframe. Nothing, not even a slight movement in the shadows. _It must have come from upstairs_ , he thought, clutching his racing heart.

Ike's crying soon followed. Waves of relief washed over Kyle. Ike was still alive! But how long would that last? No matter how scared he felt at that moment, he had to save Ike from whoever was lurking in the house. Or whoever _s_.

All he needed now was some kind of weapon. Kyle's eyes darted around the dark living room. That's when it caught his eye: his father's pack of golf clubs was leaning against the nook of the wall between the bookshelf and the front window. Gerald had gone out golfing with his buddies that afternoon and had left it in that little corner when he returned home. Kyle quietly pulled one of the golf clubs out of the pack and cautiously made his way up the stairs. _You leave my brother alone, goddammit!_

Once he reached the landing, Kyle pressed his back against the wall and skirted around until he reached the wall adjacent to Ike's bedroom. Ike's usually closed door was now wide open. He peeked into the doorway of Ike's room, and his breath caught in his throat at the sight before him. The intruder was leaning over Ike's bed, his back turned to Kyle. The man was on the thin side but sported broad shoulders and stood about 6'2". In his hand, he held a bag of what Kyle believed to be stolen possessions.

"You wanna wake the whole neighborhood, you little shit?" the intruder hissed threateningly at the crying Ike. Anger boiled inside Kyle, and at that moment his courage trumped the fear that flowed throughout his body.

"STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM HIM!" Kyle screamed. He lunged forward and bashed the golf club against the back of the intruder's legs, then bashed the back of the man's head. The man cried out and fell to the floor, clutching his bruised head.

"Kyle!" Ike exclaimed. He bounced off his bed and ran to his brother's side. The younger boy clutched Kyle's jacket tightly and buried his tear-stained face in it. "Please save me, Kyle!" he sobbed. Kyle wrapped his arm around Ike protectively, while the other arm held his father's golf club, poised and ready to battle his opponent.

The man slowly turned to face the two boys. Kyle gasped in horror as he recognized the intruder, particularly by the scar. It was the Jacobsen guy who escaped from the Park County Jailhouse. His yellow teeth, turned down in a scowl, began to curve upward as his dark blue eyes took in Kyle. The man laughed maniacally at the redhead.

"Come on, Tiger Woods, let's see what you got!" Henry taunted him, maliciously. "I ain't scared of ya!"

Kyle reacted quickly and smacked him in the side of the face with the golf club. Drops of blood from the man's cheek splattered onto the carpet. He glared angrily at Kyle and spat broken teeth out of the side of his mouth like watermelon pits.

"Ike, run!" Kyle cried out, making a head-start before Henry could recuperate from his injuries. Ike made no hesitation and followed his brother out into the hallway. The two stopped short in front of the attic opening latch.

"Quick Ike, we'll hide up here till the cops come," Kyle instructed his brother. He quickly grabbed the pull rod from his parents' room and hooked it into the latch to release the folding attic stairs. "Grab whatever you can find up there and keep throwing it at him if he comes this way!" he told Ike as he gestured for the younger boy to climb up the steps first.

The convict hobbled out of Ike's room, then fell to his knees and began to crawl hastily towards the two boys. His movements reminded Kyle of a creature from a scary movie that crawled at its prey in a spider-like fashion. That shit always freaked him out no matter how fake it looked onscreen.

Ike had made it up to the attic landing, but it was Kyle who had the unfortunate luck of tripping up the wooden stairs. The golf club flew out of Kyle's hand and fell onto the carpet below him. Kyle's knee throbbed, and he winced in pain as he tried to push himself up. Before he could reach the step above, the intruder lunged forward and pounced upon him.

The evil man pinned down a struggling Kyle with one large hand. The second hand reached into the pocket of his orange jumpsuit and pulled out a dagger. Fear gripped Kyle's pounding heart as Henry raised the gleaming dagger to strike the blow. "No!" Kyle screamed. He shielded his face with his arms and closed his eyes tightly.

But suddenly he heard the convict let out screams of surprise, followed by the soft clank of the dagger as it bounced off the stairs and onto the carpet below. Kyle opened his eyes and craned his neck up to see Ike throwing random objects from the storage boxes at Henry and at the hand that held Henry's dagger. Bike helmets, VHS tapes, a dartboard, and contents from a box full of fishing gear flew down at the man at an alarming rate.

Enraged, Henry climbed up the steps toward Ike. Ike shrieked in horror, backing away as the evil man approached. As Henry climbed over Kyle, Kyle gritted his teeth and kicked the man square in the balls. Henry doubled over and slipped. But as he fell, Henry caught hold of Kyle's ankle and dragged the boy with him down the stairs. Pain erupted in Kyle's back as he slid down the hard wood stairs.

Landing with a hard thud on the carpet, Kyle groaned and subconsciously turned his neck to his left. He was glad he did. To his luck, the fallen golf club was only mere feet away from him through the opening in between the first two steps. Kyle reached for the club, his fingers only brushing the rubber tip. _Dammit._ He tried to crawl forward as much as his caught leg would allow. He wedged the grip between his two fingers and pulled as much as his fingers would allow.

 _Come on, come on…_

"Say your prayers, you little brat," Henry hissed at Kyle. His right hand was digging through the fallen attic objects for his knife. "I'll teach you not to mess with me! I'll cut your heart out and devour it while your brother watches!"

When most of the golf club had been slid towards him, Kyle pushed himself up to a sitting position and bashed the hand that was reaching for the knife. "Let go of me, asshole!" Kyle yelled, bashing the golf club repeatedly onto Henry's other wrist that gripped his ankle until the horrible man slumped over in pain, releasing his ankle. _Damn, this thing is good_ , Kyle thought with a grin. He ran up the steps to join his brother.

He and Ike hastily opened the remaining two storage boxes. Kyle's heart sank as he pulled his grandmother's old dresses from out of the box. Ike's luck was no better: his box contained Gerald's old comic books from when he was a kid.

They were screwed. Not much that the golf club could do at this point. And there was no way they were going to jump out the window. A fall that high was much too dangerous. The limping, bleeding psychopath had made his way up to the landing. Kyle was simply amazed by the convict's willpower, despite how much of a beating the escaped prisoner had taken in the past ten minutes.

 _Dammit, where the hell are the police?_ Kyle thought in panic. _Not like it will matter anymore._ _It'll be our funeral day by the time they arrive._

"Nowhere to run," Henry sneered at them, chuckling darkly. "Looks like you're all outta luck." The boys shook with fear under each other's grasp. Ike was crouched on the floor like a ball with his little arms wrapped around Kyle's knees.

 _Like a ball...That's it!_ Kyle thought excitedly.

"Ike, let go of me," Kyle whispered gently to his little brother. "I have an idea." _God, I hope this works_ , he thought. He hadn't done this in a long time. And he hoped that the shooting pain in his knee and back wouldn't hinder the outcome and he'd miss the target completely. Ike reluctantly obeyed, and Kyle took three steps back.

"Ready, Ike?" Kyle said aloud. "KICK THE BABY!"

Ike's brows furrowed at his brother. "Don't kick the baby!" he retorted. _Just like old times_ , Kyle thought with a smirk. His foot collided with the toddler's body, and the happily-laughing Ike was sent flying like a football into Henry's face.

"OWW! FUCKING SON OF A BITCH!" Henry roared, as he staggered backward from the force of the blow. He lost his footing on the landing and tumbled down the steep steps. As Henry hobbled to his feet, the back of his heel caught a stray bike helmet at the bottom of the steps and he tripped backward, crashing into a small round side table. A colorful glass vortex vase, which had been placed atop the table, crashed onto Henry's head. A large shard of glass impaled his skull, causing him to bleed to death.

Both Broflovski brothers stood atop the attic stairs in silence, still shaking from the trauma of the past half hour. Ike sobbed into Kyle's chest, whether from the trauma of the night or from seeing the man getting impaled Kyle didn't know. Kyle embraced his little brother in a loving hug.

Police sirens rang out from outside their home. _Oh so now they decide to show up_ , Kyle thought sarcastically. _How cliché._ But none of that mattered now. He and Ike were safe and alive, and that's all he could have asked for.

That's when they heard the front door open burst open. The first – and most prominent – voice they heard was not that of a person of law enforcement, but of someone tougher and scarier. Fits of hysterics resonated throughout the house as Sheila Broflovski ran wild searching for her sons.

"KYLE? IKE? MY BABIES! DID HE HURT MY BABIES?!"

"Dude, remind me again of what Mr. Garrison assigned us," said Kyle, rubbing at his tired eyes as he and Stan made their way back to the Broflovski house from 7-Eleven. He had barely gotten any sleep the night before and fought hard to stay awake during class. His adrenaline had been pumping from the events of the robbery, his mind replaying the night like a movie. And having the police and press people coming at him like a whirlwind moments after the incident was over had kept him up at least an extra hour more. Stan had suggested that they go get Slurpees after school so that Kyle could get his second wind for battle practice.

"He wants us to watch TMZ tonight and do a report on the fight between Aquaman and Siren," said Stan, tossing his empty Slurpee cup in a nearby trashcan.

"You mean Kanye West and Taylor Swift?" Kyle asked as he began to unlock the door.

"Yeah, that," answered Stan. As Kyle opened the door, he and Stan were greeted with a very bubbly, booming voice that nearly knocked Kyle on his behind.

"THERE'S OUR HERO!" Filippo announced happily upon seeing Kyle. He clasped his hands together. Two assistants stood on either side of Filippo, all five standing in front of what Kyle assumed to be a small mannequin. "Quickly now, we must get you into wardrobe immediately."

Kyle lifted a brow quizzically. "Wardrobe? But the coronation's not until Friday."

"Well, since you saved our town from a crazed killer, the members of the Elven Kingdom have decided to surprise you with an impromptu coronation TODAY!" explained Filippo. "Our Stanny boy here has been so cooperative enough to distract you while we set up your kingdom!" Stan grinned sheepishly but proudly.

"You have truly proven yourself worthy of your title, my liege," the young tailor continued. "Today, my dear Kyle, you will be crowned King of the Elves!"

Kyle was speechless. He wasn't exactly prepared, yet his heart thrummed with excitement. As he opened his mouth to express this, Filippo held out a hand to stop him.

"Ah ah ah, no need!" he said. "Everything is under control. Your team has catered it to your liking. Now let's get to it! Your robe, my king." He and the assistants parted to reveal Kyle's Elf King robe. Kyle was immediately spellbound by it. It was the most beautiful garment he had ever laid eyes on. It had been woven together of the finest red fabric and embroidered with gold elfish symbols. A high wide gold collar fanned out from the top of the robe, and the ends of the sleeves and opening of the robe were accented with gold trims.

"Gentlemen!" Filippo commanded his assistants with a frantic snap of his fingers. "Patch him up! We want him to glowwwww!" The assistants swarmed around Kyle, removing the backpack from his shoulders and applying moisturizer to his face. They doused him in a woodland-scented cologne to match the theme (the over-saturation of it made his throat constrict and he coughed violently). The chaos had caused his beloved green ushanka to fly off his head, and the assistants grabbed and pulled at Kyle's curls.

"NOT HIS HAIR!" Filippo yelled at them, making the assistants freeze like deer caught in headlights. "The crown goes _over_ the hat! OVER THE HAT!" Still frozen in fear of their boss's wrath, the assistants released Kyle's hair, the red curls springing back into place simultaneously. Filippo picked the ushanka up off the floor and handed it back to Kyle, sighing apologetically. "My Lord, when you see the crown I have in mind for you, you'll understand. We don't want to ruin your beautiful hair!" But Kyle didn't complain. He was always so self-conscious of his hair.

"Dress him! Chop, chop!" Filippo then commanded his assistants. The assistants acted quickly as they dressed Kyle in the billowy robes, placing it over his jacket. Once done, they made their way to the Broflovski's backyard.

Kyle was amazed to find at least two dozen of the Elven boys standing before him in the backyard, clapping and cheering for him. The backyard itself had been decorated with leaf banners all around. A larger banner of leaves stood in the middle of the yard, hanging from two tetherball poles on either side. _How did they get that in here?_ Kyle thought with a chuckle. In the middle of this leaf banner was an orange banner, with the words "Elven Kingdom" written in dark green. Tents filled with goodies and weaponries were lined along the right side of the yard. A large wooden chair – the new throne – stood atop a wooden platform, with branches poking out from behind it. It was perfect.

Now was the time of the procession to his new throne. The crowd of elf boys parted to make way for their new king. Stan waved to Jimmy at the dais to signal him to start the procession music. Making the coronation look more official, Stan and Chris Donnely gathered up the little train of Kyle's extravagant robes and held it out as the three of them made their way to the throne.

Jason stood at the throne, a pillow in his hands. Upon that pillow was a crown of branches. No wonder he was told to keep his hat on. God only knew the hell he would go through trying to untangle his wild curls from the branches.

But before Kyle approached the first step, a trio of Elves gathered around him. Two of them tied his robe together with a rope belt, with a pouch of gold attached to it; the third placed a necklace of three gold coins around his neck. The trio bowed to Kyle and parted so he could make his way up the steps to the throne after Stan and Chris.

"My Lord," Jason addressed Kyle, bowing his head in respect as the redhead approached him. Kyle nodded back in acknowledgement as he took his seat at the wooden throne. Jason turned to face Kyle and raised the crown of branches above him.

"I crown thee, Kyle Broflovski, King of the Elves!" Jason announced as he gingerly placed the crown of branches over Kyle's ushanka and onto his head. The cheers that followed were deafening.

"HUZZAH! HUZZAH!" the Elves cheered. "ALL HAIL THE ELF KING KYLE!"

 _I can't believe they did all this for me_ ,Kyle thought. He felt so touched and so grateful to his fellow Elves. He was going to win this great battle for them, no matter what the cost.

There was just one thing left to establish…

"My Lord," Stan turned to Kyle, placing a hand on his shoulder. "If you would do the honor of choosing a weapon?" He gestured to a bucket of assorted weapons to the left of the throne, the ones Stan had pointed out from his uncle's store as well as the nun chucks.

"Actually," Kyle said, slowly. "I already have one in mind." He turned to his right, where Ike stood gazing up at his big brother with grand admiration. "Ike, get me the 9-iron from Dad's pack in the living room," he instructed gently. Ike nodded agreeably and skipped happily into the house. He emerged moments later with Gerald's golf club in his hands. The Elves were stunned that he had chosen something so simple.

Stan turned to his friend, lifting a brow in confusion. "Kyle, are you sure about that?" he asked. "I mean, your nun chucks bring out the ninja in you, and the battle axe and crossbow are pretty fucking threatening. But dude, why a golf club?"

Kyle grinned. "It's to remind me of what I can accomplish and how my determination to fight back won in the end, that I conquered my fears to help someone in trouble. Not to mention it's great for beating people's brains in." He winked, recalling the joy of seeing the murderous madman in pain. Stan registered this and an understanding smile spread across his face.

"Thanks, Ike," Kyle smiled at Ike as the younger boy climbed the dais and handed him the 9-iron. But the Canadian dropped something else into Kyle's palm. Kyle examined it closely. It was a golf ball.

"For enemies far away!" explained Ike, excitedly anticipating his brother's opinion.

A wide smile formed on Kyle's lips when he realized what Ike meant. He chuckled and ruffled the top of Ike's hair gratefully. "I always knew you were a genius. Would you like to be part of our team?"

"I wanna be a pie-wat!" Ike exclaimed happily.

"Well for saving me last night, we'll make sure to start a Pirate Faction for you, okay? But I'd love to have you as a summon in battle."

"YAAAAAAAAY!" Ike clapped his hands, gave his brother a quick hug, and bounced away into the crowd.

Chris Donnely stood before Kyle with a large mirror. "Take a look, My Lord!" Chris smiled widely. Kyle stood up to examine his reflection and was amazed at what gazed back at him. His new royal garments and crown made him feel more handsome than he'd ever felt before. And the golf club itself was the perfect fit, acting as both a multi-functional weapon and a powerful, gleaming walking staff that made his presence as a king known.

Kyle turned to address his crowd with a smile. "Drow Elves of the Forest," he began, "I want to thank you for all you have done for me. This," he held out his arms to gesture the newly decorated backyard kingdom and his new royal attire. "This is more than I could ask for. It means so much to me that you would go to all this trouble to make this kingdom perfect. I really can't thank you enough. I guess I've really earned your trust then, huh?"

Chris bowed deeply to Kyle, and the others followed suit. "We are honored to have someone so noble and courageous as our leader," he said, "and whose heroic deeds will be spoken of for generations."

"I would never dream of failing you guys," said Kyle. "But it's not about me. I know Cartman is going to play dirty. I know he's going to cheat. That's why we all need to work together on this! I'm trusting you all to do what's right. Every single one of you is important to this battle. Each one of you has a purpose here! Let me end by saying this: I won't let you down. And I feel very lucky to be your king." He held the golf club in the air triumphantly, a symbol of hope for the adventures ahead.

"FOR THE STICK!"

THE END


End file.
